Love They Say
by C. Nichole
Summary: Vincent considers the future, while Tifa is no longer content to let the present pass them by. My sexy little Valentine's present- WAFF.


Big, super big thanks to JessicaJ and Fostersb- thanks for sticking with me! Also- go check out JessicaJ's awesome oneshot Cherry Syrup- which she so wonderfully dedicated to Raven's Wing and I~ link to her profile in my Author Favs.

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She was brooding, which wasn't typical.

Tifa _never _brooded.

That was generally an activity that was solely and unequivocally equated with him.

And it _bothered _him that she was brooding.

And it _bothered _him that he was bothered by it.

Standing there at the edge of the railing, framed by a great, blue sky, waiting for the Highwind to takeoff. Who was she to him? A girl- young, beautiful, haunted. Hadn't he given that all up? Hadn't his heart ripped figuratively and somewhat literally from his chest, all in the pursuit of some pretty, young thing?

But he knew that wasn't quite it.

He _liked her._

She was the girl he'd always secretly dreamed about, but never went for. Not perfect, not by a long-shot, but so unabashedly _alive_, so full of the moment, and so- loved and loving.

It was a fool's hope, he knew it, which was why he'd never much entertained the thoughts of "what if…" and "after Sephiroth is gone…" because would that moment ever come? Vincent had never been very good with positive expectations for the future, and it hadn't changed during the thirty years he'd been below the Shinra mansion, but lately… something had been different between them.

She'd always been friendly with him- Tifa was friendly with everyone, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was being _extra _friendly with him. They'd developed a bond, somehow, inexplicably her, picking at the broken pieces of his heart; he, slowly stealing moments where he could make her smile.

He couldn't quite ignore the fact that he'd been _enjoying _it.

A smile; the brush of her fingers across his forearm; the light in her eyes when she saw him. It all made him wonder…

The first time he'd seen her, he'd been taken aback by her- hands at her hips, strong and fierce, yet the toe of her shoe wiggling unconsciously into the broken ground- the strength of her stance undermined by the slightly insecure gesture. Had she wanted him to join their group, truly? Been worried he wouldn't? That he _would?_

At first, he'd thought there was something between her and their hapless leader, but eventually he'd decided it was more akin to a brother and sister type relationship. At least, on her part. She treated Cloud like someone who needed to be protected- sometimes even from himself. He thought he respected her for it- caring for someone even when they were so obviously damaged… but at the same time, he thought her a bit foolish. Why waste her time on something that could not be fixed?

But that she'd try…gave birth to a flicker of hope within his own battered heart.

And then there was that moment- one of those fierce, frightening things that make you question what is truly dear, the future, and how it should be spent.

That was the day they saved each other.

It'd been a rather atypical patrol- that is, Tifa and Vincent had been partnered up instead of the typical Cloud, Tifa. This time, they'd all partnered up in pairs- leaving Tifa, after all was said and done, with him.

He hadn't known whether to be excited or frightened a the prospect of having to spend so much time- alone, with her.

Vincent had settled on trying to play it cool, but Tifa would have none of it, and soon enough he'd been chatting with her in a way that only she seemed to be able to bring forth. And that had been part of the problem- he'd been so caught up in watching the animated way in which she spoke- her arms flailing wildly with her story, which had something to do with some trouble her, Yuffie and Aerith had gotten into with Cid- face slightly flushed with glee or embarrassment, the way her body swayed and flowed with her movements, the appealing nature of her small, curvy form… and that's when they'd _both _been caught off guard.

"And then… you'll never guess what happened next, Vincent," she'd said through a laugh.

"Hnn…" he'd softly prompted, half interested in what was developing into a hilarious story, half interested in the fullness of her lips.

"Yuffie threw an _entire _bag of flour on Cid- _right _after he left the shower- you know, in the hallway? Right on the way to the barracks?"

Vincent had nodded; he'd vaguely wondered why there'd been flour marks all over the floor and walls of the hallway.

"Oh, gods! You should have seen his face- what could could see of it through the flour! Of course, he thought Aerith and I had something to do with it, but all we'd tried to do was keep her from going through with it- you know how tricky she can be! Before we could catch her, she'd already been bouncing through the hall… honestly, couldn't have timed it better."

He _did _in fact know how tricky she could be; he'd been on the receiving end of her wrath a time or two- and then there'd been the incident where she'd managed to steal _all _of their materia. Once Yuffie got it in her head to do something, come hell or high water, she did it.

And Cid, if Tifa's story was to be believed, _had _called her 'foul-mouthed, poor excuse for a sneak, pipsqueak;' undoubtedly he'd known some sort of retribution was in order.

She'd smiled at him, eyes full of mirth, and he could have sworn his heart- what little was left of it, had skipped a beat. It was _ridiculous. _Here he was, on a specific _mission of retribution, _and this- for lack of a better distinction with relation to himself- _girl _was making him…_feel._

It would have given him the shivers had her smile and attentions not completely warmed him to the core.

He could have killed himself for being so distracted- in fact, it almost _did _kill him.

The darkness of the cave they'd been searching almost completely obscured the _arc dragon_ from their vision- they might have been able to hear it, had either of them being paying any sort of attention, but before they could react it had been upon them- talons raised, ready to take a swipe out of Vincent.

Luckily, he'd had the presence of mind to shove Tifa behind him- hopefully his body could withstand the wounds and regenerate enough that she wouldn't have to take on the beast alone, but she'd had other ideas.

Wrapping herself around his back, she'd kicked his knees out so that he'd sprawled backward on the ground, both falling hard onto their sides- causing the creature to miss and fly harmlessly over them.

They hadn't had much time to lay and consider the comical nature of their ambush, because before they knew it the beast had realized its miscalculation, righted itself and was making its way over for another pass at them.

"Vincent-" she'd yelled, getting into a half-assed formation with him, "stop being such a gods-damned martyr!"

A shot- and a miss; they recalculated, circling the beast as Tifa activated an aero materia, "Would you rather I let it hit you?" he'd asked, incredulous that he was being yelled at when all he'd been trying to do… was sacrifice his own safety to ensure hers.

"What I'd rather, Vincent Valentine, is that you stop taking your life for granted and start _understanding _that maybe, just maybe, if you did take that shot, you might not be around to save my ass when _I actually _need it saved! That maybe I don't just want saving- maybe _I just want you_!"

A vicious swipe at his gut that nearly disemboweled him- Tifa distracted the beast, landing a flurry of kicks and punches while simultaneously dodging its tails-wipes. He hardly had time to think between the furious movements of the monster and their own bodies- did she just say that she wanted _him_?

Had he been wrong in assuming that she'd only ever wanted him as a friend?

Could there possibly be a more inopportune time to be having this conversation and thinking these thoughts? He'd wondered before the stress of the moment had become too much for his damaged psyche- the possibility that she _could _and _might _have died, had they both not acted, too much for the beasts within- and he transformed.

And all coherent thoughts were dissolved away until nothing more than sense- _tearing, viscousness, blood, pain, adrenaline, protect_- existed. For the moment, Vincent was a part of a greater sense of being- existing within and without of another part of him that he tried not to acknowledge- Galian Beast.

It was quite some time before he came back to himself.

His first coherent thoughts were of her, and scanning the area he found her standing patiently on top of a high rock- probably to distance herself from the monster he'd become until he changed back. He was seated on the ground, his gun beside him- she must have put it there.

_She must be so disgusted,_ he'd thought, with no small amount of shame.

She'd hopped down and walked over towards him, "I was scouting the area- looks like it's all clear for takeoff!"

He nodded as he looked her over; she seemed whole and untouched- they had obviously succeeded, though he had no memories of their victory.

"You're pretty intense, the way you get," she'd said- she almost seemed… _curious._

"I am sorry if I frightened you," he apologized, trying not to look embarrassed.

But Tifa had only laughed at him, "Oh, Vincent- don't be silly. Don't you know how you are?"

Vincent shook his head. Well, no, he actually had _no idea _how he was when he transformed. He'd only ever had snippets revealed to him- almost as if he was noticing parts of himself peripherally, but he knew that it was overwhelmingly sensory and primal.

"Well, don't worry Vincent. It's just you…except, well, more passionate and intense? Does that even make sense?" she seemed to be fumbling with her words as she walked towards where he was seated to kneel beside him.

"How?" he asked, but he was almost terrified to hear the answer.

"You spent a good ten minutes sniffing and licking my wounds," Tifa said slowly, trying to keep the laughter from her voice.

If Vincent's collar wasn't so high, she'd have been able to see the deep blush of mortification that had risen up from his neck up. He almost wished that he _had _died, if only to not have suffered the indignity of being at the whims of the beasts within them- with their animal instincts.

"I….I…" he tried and failed to apologize.

And Tifa had only smiled, reaching close enough to wiggle his nose with her finger, "It's fine, Vincent. And it's not the first time, so I'm used to it."

Oh..oh _gods…_ He'd always known that they'd tried to give him his space after he transformed and prior to being brought back into… himself, but he'd always assumed it was because he was too terrifying to be near.

He'd _never _expected that _pact instincts_ had arisen within and were taking themselves out on his companions.

"Really, Vincent. It's kind of endearing… I mean, if I'd known sooner that all it took to get your attention…" but then she'd tapered off, embarrassing herself.

"I mean, you're still _you,_ so it's okay," she said by way of explanation… but what had she meant?

But they'd both left it at that and continued on their exploration before meeting up with the rest of their party.

And then he'd found her- in _his _usual brooding spot when the deck got too busy with… Yuffie, mostly.

Standing there, arms crossed, as beautiful and bright and… unattainable as always.

Eventually, she noticed him and offered a small smile, "I've been waiting for you."

He raised an eyebrow at that; funny, after his utter and complete humiliation, he'd been _avoiding _her.

"I've been thinking about… the future. This quest- what happens when it's all over… what I want," the words seemed to stick in her throat. She stopped and started a few more times before finally saying, "Cloud..urm, presented himself to me, today. Said something about fixing mistakes he'd made in the past. Wanted the chance to start again."

So, here it was. She was going to tell him that, though she'd enjoyed their friendship, she could no longer be as close with him as she had more serious attachments to worry about.

Vincent heartened himself for what was sure to be an overwhelmingly familiarly sense of disappointment. At least, she'd done it without the other man present… Not like Lucrecia.

He'd probably escape _this _encounter alive, at least.

"Vincent, are you listening?" she asked when she noticed him kind of staring off.

He nodded and said, a little more gruffly than he'd intended, "Continue."

Facing him head on, she looked up at him and locked eyes- _here it comes._

"I told him that I love him as a friend and that I'm not interested in that kind of relationship… with _him."_

His mind was having a hard time digesting her words.. Did that mean?

"I told him I'm interested in someone else," her expression was so open, so heartbreakingly trusting- hopeful.

Vincent found he couldn't speak, that words had been stolen from him- _she couldn't possibly mean…_

She continued, "Vincent… when this is all over… do you think that maybe we…?" she trailed off, possibly hoping he'd finish her sentence.

He didn't- _couldn't. _Had no idea what to say next- wouldn't be able to handle the disappointment if the answer he'd formulated in his mind wasn't the same one she'd formed in hers.

"Tifa…" he started, reaching forward- hesitantly, gently, running the pads of his fingers along one of her soft cheeks- the words thick in his throat, "I don't want…"_ you to break my heart? …to lose what we have? …to be brave?_

Eyes bright, lip curved into a small smile- _she knew. _

She made the decision for him.

Walking closer, slowly enough that he could back away, she slid her hands under his cape, along the planes of his chest and around his back- pulled him closer. Hands reaching out, she slowly undid the buckles of his cowl, peeling back the layers until his face was open to her.

Bracing herself against him, she stood on her tip-toes and kissed under his chin- she'd never make it to his lips without him bridging the distance between them.

He couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't think- her small body so warm and soft and perfect, all wrapped around his.

Eventually, he looked down at her, words and thoughts and heart all stuck in his throat- she demanded: "Kiss me."

And he did.

Hesitant at first- slow, soft, featherlight brushes of lips against lips, and then she reached a hand up to thread her fingers through his long hair and pulled him down and into her lips.

And slowly his body responded- like a fuse burning down to the quick and finally, it ignited his very soul.

He held her body close, ran his fingers along the open space between her short skirt and short shirt- and had to suppress a shudder at the skin on skin contact- irrationally glad that he'd decided to forgo his usual gloves and gauntlet.

It had been so long since he'd held _anyone, _let alone the way he was holding her, so long since he'd felt soft lips against his, felt the slow caresses of another. Deepening the kiss as he held him against her, Tifa slid her tongue along his bottom lip, and he almost moaned with surprise- _almost._

Instead, he'd taken it as an invitation- tongues swirling, teeth nipping, breath panting, hands frantic- somehow she backed him into a space against the wall, somewhere near the entrance to the stairwell.

The rational part of him worried that the door might swing open and hit her, the irrational part of him _knew _that he'd rip the door from its hinges and throw it over the side of the ship if it even so much as moved in their direction.

Tifa untucked the tails of his shirt, and not for the first time, he cursed the number of belts and buckles and buttons on his clothing- why did being well equipped necessitate _so many_ clasps- eventually breaching the fabric enough to be able to slide a hand along the skin of his chest.

He'd been holding it together relatively well, though he'd not been the perfect gentleman, he'd only been obliging her _obvious _wishes, and then she'd run the tips of her nails down his chest- softly, grazing a nipple- and all pretenses of civility and gentlemanliness had flown over the side of the Highwind railing.

Something close to a growl reverberated from deep within his chest, and he vaguely noticed that Tifa's lips had quirked into a smile against his own- so she'd been baiting him?

He supposed she was in for a surprise.

In one fluid motion, Vincent had her up and off the floor, against the wall, her legs wrapped around him.

The low moan she'd uttered against the side of his neck almost completely undid him, so much so that he'd needed to take more than a few calming breaths before he slowly, softly, _deliberately _ground his body into hers- taking almost complete and utter control of the situation.

"Vincent…" she gasped, nails digging into his shoulders- legs tight, increasing the friction.

One hand high on her thigh to keep her body firmly in place, the other free to explore. Tracing the edge of her shirt, his fingers found their way underneath the fabric, ghosting a path along her ribs… the underside of her breast.

With a moan, Tifa curved her neck back in a blatant invitation- he took it. Lips a brand against her neck, he left a fiery trail up and along before finally reaching her ear.

Some creaking and finally a deep rumble met their ears;"The ship is starting…" he whispered against the shell of her ear- which meant it was about to become incredibly dangerous for them both.

Tifa pouted at him, "Where then?" She apparently had no intention of stopping what they'd started.

"My cabin?" he answered; it was private, though small; the ship was equipped with enough private cabins to suit their needs- the Highwind had been a diplomatic ship before it had been _acquired _by their group and therefore was actually rather accommodating, at least as far as lodgings went.

"Please," she begged.

Shifting, stumbling, fumbling with clothes and limbs and lips, they finally made it to Vincent's quarters- which were luckily on the lowest level of the ship and closer to their current location than Tifa's room.

Through the door, the light from the tiny porthole their only guide, they'd tripped and kissed and pulled and nipped at each other- clothes tumbling off, until finally Tifa stood before him, naked.

And if he'd been captivated by her before, nothing quite compared to the way she completely invaded him now- body and soul. And yet, beautiful, almost completely bared to him, her foot still twisted nervously into the cold, metal ground- her hand covering a space on her chest.

"What's wrong?" he barely had the presence of mind to ask.

"I've never shown anyone my scar before…" she said so softly if he'd had regular hearing, he would have had to strain to hear it.

He hadn't even noticed- how could he? It was literally the furthest thing from his mind. Reaching a hand out, he pulled her to him and distracted her by directing her hands to his remaining clothing. She gasped as his shirt was finally removed; he known she'd be startled by the sheer number of scars on his chest- another gift from Professor Hojo.

"Gods…he really tried to break you, didn't he?" she said, fingers reaching, slowly tracing the patterns of his battered skin, to finally be replaced by the soft pressure of her lips.

"Nearly did…" he replied, having a hard time forming sentences with her lips on him the way they were.

He pulled her back to stand before him and she pulled her arms down to the side- revealing her scar. It was a thin line that ran almost the entire length of her sternum- the sword must have been razor sharp to leave such a thin, perfect line.

Mirroring her touch, Vincent slowly traced the tip of his finger down the line before pulling her to him and whispering, "You are beautiful."

He felt her answering smile against his chest.

"So are you."

Vincent's lips quirked; raising his hand, he gently tilted her head back.

"Are you sure…?" One last chance to back out.

Her response was immediate: "Positive."

Pulling her down and on to him, the world, with all of its pressures, demands and insecurities melted and disappeared in the wake of their pleasure.

Later, _much _later, when they were all but spent, laying in each other's arms, Tifa had propped herself up and looked at Vincent.

Hair tangled from their lovemaking, lips cherry red from his kisses, cheeks still flushed, she was quite the vision.

Almost hesitantly, she'd spoken,"So, your answer…?" she wasn't content to let the issue drop then.

_Was there a future for them? And why must it be the future? Give this all up to wait for a moment in time? _Vincent decided.

"Why wait?" he replied.

Her answering smile was all the confirmation he'd needed.

_~Fin_

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A/N~ Undressing Vincent looks like it'd be a pretty difficult feat- I actually had to walk over and check out my Vincent resin statue (BEST PRESENT EVER FANGIRL SQUEEE) that currently resides on my bedside table- yes, if you had any doubt, I am that obsessed- and see whether or not it's even possible to UNBUTTON his shirt. Judging from the statue, it looks like it's _**possible, **_but the ridiculously obscene amount of belts and buckles he has would make the job rather difficult- good thing Tifa doesn't give up easy.

Though seriously- Nomura has a weird fucking obsession with zippers and buckles and belts- though, I've always found Squall's ridicubelts awesome (in that Clint Eastwood, go ahead, make my day- kind of way) sooo… maybe I get it?

Anywho, this is just a little Valentine's/Happy New Years/ thanks for sticking with me present. All the favs, reviews, follows- I notice it all; thank you. If you review, I'll even thank you personally (at least, I do my best; hopefully I don't miss anyone).

Also, if you get a chance- go give me some input on my blogs (links on my profile page)- I occasionally will be posting things that pop into my head- or new beginnings, so let me know what you think!

Song that inspired this: Love They Say - Tegan and Sara. Great song! Great artists!

HAPPY (early) V-DAY!

C. Nichole.


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